Olive Loss
by CapriciouslyTerminal
Summary: Compassion turning to rage, his final sermon echoed all the way to the Grand Highblood's throne, blackened words echoing to her very core. If she wasn't gripped by her tossing emotions, she would have howled alongside him. Happy to follow his teachings to the ends of Alternia, she would have copied each vulgar word in the dust at her feet, so that she might serve her purpose.


_The air was hot and dry like gavel against her skin._

_Perhaps the unbearable pressure came from the crowd of Highbloods who had come to witness the execution of the rumored Signless._

_Perhaps it came because the sun was rising soon._

_Perhaps it was just the blistering weight of what was happening that settled on The Disciple's skin like a miniature sun._

_She made no move to run, even though the desire to spring upon the imperial flogging jut and claw away the searing irons that bound her love's wrists was pounding through her veins with a mad fervor ten times stronger than any thrill of the hunt._

_His grey skin fizzled under the red hot shackles as he was whipped._

_Again and again._

_Bright red blood, the color of his flaming irons, leaked from each cut made upon his grey skin._

_The blood that branded him a mutant, that would have killed him sooner had he not been hidden._

_The blood that spewed from his lips as he spoke._

_His voice was different from that of his teachings, raw and pain-filled, as he cried out bitter hate filled words._

_Each emerged like a spiny insect from his lips, flying to bury themselves into the ears of his captivated audience. _

_He was loud, his voice reverberating through her ears, so loud she thought she'd go deaf._

_He cried a hate-driven sermon for his captivated audience, their cries for blood silenced by his thundering words._

_Compassion turning to rage, his final sermon echoed all the way to the Grand Highblood's throne, blackened words echoing to her very core._

_If she wasn't gripped by her tossing emotions, she would have howled alongside him._

_Happy to follow his teachings to the ends of Alternia, she would have copied each vulgar word in the dust at her feet, so that she might serve her purpose as his most devoted follower._

_As his Disciple._

_She no longer needed her name, she no longer needed her now-dead lusus, she didn't need anything, as long as she was his and he was hers._

_Their love outlasted quadrants, too red to be simply define by the term matesprits._

_True love, unrestrained passion, had replaced her blood._

_And now, it ran out with him._

_As his speech rose in anger, reaching the climax where she felt her emotions soar to her throat in defiance of those surrounding them, she saw The Grand Highblood raise his hand._

_The hope in her throat, brought on by his raging words, plummeted._

_A flying creature shot down to rest on the floor, blood flowing from it's once white breast._

_E%ecutioner Darkleer hefted his bow, and notched an arrow._

_Sleek as night and sharp as pain, it's point spelled doom._

_"Signless?" She had asked the night before, as they lay close, intertwined by dying fire._

_Darkleer aimed, his eyes shrouded by dark lenses, a void of blackness reflecting the burning red._

_"Yes?" His voice had been a whisper, so as not to wake up the others._

_He was screaming now, cursing the biased world in which he had been born and found happiness._

_Only to have it ripped away for trying to share it with those who could not understand._

_"Will we...have a future? After this, after we've reached our goal, what will we do?" A night ago, she'd seen hope, she hadn't seen this terror._

_This despair._

_Darkleer was pulling back the string now, straightening the arrow. It's point poised to strike._

_Dolorosa sobbed, begging and pleading for anything to just STOP THIS._

_Her sobs fell like crystals to the ground, shattering into smaller pained pieces._

_A night ago, when the world was still right, The Signless had answered. "I don't know all of the details...but I know this. Wherever we go," he had looped a hand in hers. "We'll go together."_

_Darkleer released the string._

_And it was only then, that The Disciple screamed._

_A cruel accompaniment to the flight of the black arrow._

_The Signless released one final cry, one that seemed to echo forever, as the arrow pierced him._

_Their cries swirled together, a final accent of misery as true love bled out._

_She remembered a night where they had bent hidden beneath the trees, lips sweetly pressed together._

_A night of light and love._

_And she knew that as his eyes closed, his thoughts were of his people, and that night._

_Where they had forgotten the true horror of the world they inhabited._

_And found solace in each other._

_Dolorosa was kneeling, her breath stolen, as if she had been pierced by the same arrow._

_As if she could feel his pain._

_Her son was dead._

_The Psiioniic was silent, yellow-hued tears spilling down his cheeks._

_His misery was a kind of internal storm, a strong wind caged within his body, tearing it inside out._

_His comrade, his best friend, was dead._

_The Disciple brought her hands to her face, holding it as pain radiated from her very core._

_Her love, her very heart, was dead._

_The Signless was dead._

_And his cry had faded from the air._

_Like the final wisps of dying smoke._

_And she was no more._

_The world was frozen as The Disciple stared at the body of The Signless._

_Which dangled from the cooled irons like a gutted beast._

_Red pooled beneath him, mixing with the dust._

_The Grand Highblood's great honking laugh echoed across the now still sky._

_A great honking disturbance as he slapped his knees._

_Doubled over in thralls of dismembered glee._

_Trolls shuffled forward, quick to finish, so they wouldn't pause their master's murder induced mirth._

_Low-blooded slaves, torches in hand._

_Could they feel their part in this story?_

_As they set their only hope for equality ablaze._

_A rust-blood's tears pattering into the flames._

_An olive blood looked close to following, as she held the remnants of The Signless' clothing._

_His only remnants that would remain on this plane._

_But then, when the corpse was ash, and the cackles had faded into gasps, The Highblood was bored again._

_So he called for the next execution._

_It was only as she was thrown before the leering highbloods, that The Disciple feared._

_But it was a only single second, a pause amidst her roarbeast heart._

_A single moment of unsure clarity in which life beyond life was questioned._

_Before her world moved on._

_And she tasted the gritty dust that had gathered into her mouth._

_Upon impact._

_Her side aching from where the blue-blooded guard had kicked it._

_Her eyes flicked like a grub's, curious, at the sight just below her nose._

_Red splattered fabric._

_**His**__ red splattered fabric._

_Dropped by an olive-blood with a quick nod before she'd receded to wait._

_For the next burning corpse._

_The Disciple pushed herself up onto her elbows, reaching for the final remnants of The Signless._

_Gathering it in her hands, she'd found strength woven inside the blood spattered article._

_Strength to turn and stare into the void._

_And watch the tremors that quaked through his arms as he hefted his massive bow._

_The void was not terrifying, as she'd imagined it to be._

_A calm black reflective lens, shaking with unseen questions._

_Those which would remain unanswered, as he looked not at her._

_But at his bow._

_His lenses fell, just sliding down his nose, to reveal the yellow eyes beneath._

_To reveal the troll beneath._

_With unsure dark blue irises._

_And a choking sense of inability._

_Sweat beading upon his brow._

_The Disciple didn't know what stayed his hand._

_But she knew it would only be for a few seconds._

_And so she came to a fork in her path._

_She could take the easy option, await the arrow, and die with the one she held dear._

_Or, she could continue her greatest mission._

_Continue her purpose._

_And move._

_now._

_And so she did._

_Scrambling and sprinting with the mad frenzy of a cornered animal._

_She used the burning pain inside her to propel herself away from the flogging jut._

_Away from the roaring Highblood with clouds of dark chucklevoodoos descending from his head._

_Away from the cheering Psiioniic and the silent Dolorosa._

_Away from the horror filled blue blood with a now broken bow._

_And away from the red splatters adorning the jut and it's irons._

_The leggings clasped within her hands seemed to weigh her down._

_But she kept running_

_Until olive streamed down her cheeks again_

_and the roars had vanished from the air._

_Until she could no longer see the shocked crowd of Highbloods._

_And the air no longer stank of heat and loss._

_With the blistering sun mounting the sky she hid inside a cave._

_Much like the one she once shared with her lusus._

_Where she stayed._

_For all time, hours melting into minutes, and minutes melting into days._

_Painting out her beloved's teachings with the blood of her prey._

_Loneliness replacing love._

_And loss replacing life._

_As The Disciple remained his most devoted follower._

_Even as he died._

_And even as she lived. _

**Leave a review? **


End file.
